I used to find it impossible to admit I was withholding. There were so many reasons for this reluctance, but most was fear based. I know, shocking. I was afraid which is why I was withholding and then I was afraid to confront that I was withholding and then I was most afraid to admit that I was withholding. All the fear, all of the time.
The most profound example of withholding is something I’ve discussed here time and again, which was in my relationship or relationships. I was afraid to tell my ex what I wanted and needed, so I kept that shit on lockdown. I was terrified to share with my ex how important certain friends were to me, so I pretended like they weren’t. I was anxious to admit that I had a difference of opinion, so I went along for the ride. He did a lot of creepy shit during our relationship, but my choice to withhold was entirely on me. My fault. My choices.
It is critically important to own when you make such a decision. It is easy to blame another human. I could sit here and tell you that if my ex wasn’t so hard on me, so judgmental, so wishy-washy, so conditional with his love and affection, I might have been more forthcoming. That may be true, but that’s also a huge load of bullshit. I could have confronted things or made the decision to walk away. Instead, I stayed.
The brilliant part is that I didn’t just exhibit this behavior in my relationship. Something I haven’t really touched on yet this week is the notion that once you get comfortable withholding in a real way with one person or in the context of one relationship, it’s hard not to justify the same across the board. You’ve allowed yourself to do such a thing and you’ve gotten to a good headspace with it, so you will naturally be less inclined to chastise yourself the next time it comes up. That’s just the way behavior works.
Thus, as you might be imagining while reading my words, I got pretty well-versed in withholding in a variety of situations. I was afraid of being seen as weak or ineffectual at work, so I elected not to escalate issues or raise my hand when I felt overwhelmed. I was afraid of being thought of as insecure and needy, so I didn’t tell my friends when I felt rejected or abandoned. I found all the places where I could keep to myself and I did just that.
You know how they say it’s easy to get out of shape and a lot more difficult to get back in shape? The same holds true for withholding. There is an ease to slipping into the art of withholding. In fact, I’ll let you in on a secret. Most of the time, the response or reaction you will get when you withhold is utterly desirable. Waters are calm and life is good. No upset, no turmoil, no shit to manage. So yeah, there’s a certain lovely appeal about the whole situation. But making the choice to knock it off? Yeah, that sucks. Big time. That is hard as hell.
There’s something entirely Pavlovian about it. You’ve acted a certain way and gotten a response that generally feels good, so why would you turn yourself around and do things in a different way that may provoke a less pleasant response? You know what I’m going to say so don’t even shrug your shoulders right now. Discomfort is one of the primary ingredients needed for growth. We have to feel shitty before we feel good. We have to take ourselves out of our comfort zone before we can find a place that feels rock steady solid.
I had to admit things to people that made them and me uncomfortable. I had to put a name to my sensitivity. I had to admit my insecurity and fears. I had to own that I was able to hold information back without reservation in order to keep myself in a place I perceived to be safer. I had to have sweaty palms and a dry mouth and wait with baited breath for someone to respond to my admissions and revelations. That shit felt really bad, but I knew that it would overwhelmingly make me a better human.
Honestly, I sort of hate the way that this word is tossed around these days, but I knew that if I had even the smallest sliver of a shot to be authentic (I know, sick face), I was going to have to make myself wholly raw in the process. I would have to lose people too. I would have to admit to myself that some relationships were just not capable of passing such a stress test and so, their time had finally come.
I cannot even describe for you the number of times I typed out a text and then deleted it. How many times I wrote messages and then scrambled to delete before they were read. How many times I hinted at my underlying feelings and then buried someone in words that made my admission confusing and irrelevant. I held back and then I lied to keep things appearing normal. I convinced myself that everything was okay because nothing I withheld was life-changing.
But here’s the thing, it was. The mistake I made was not understanding what it means to change a life. I didn’t know that holding back information could materially disrupt a relationship such that it had no shot of “normalcy” or survival in the long-term. I didn’t recognize or refused to admit to myself that withholding would erode my sense of self, over time, so profoundly, that it would be ten times harder to find my way back. I didn’t understand that my self-harm would eventually harm everyone around me in various and sundry ways. Fuck that. I didn’t want to understand that I was hurting myself and others. If I admitted that to myself, I would have been forced to either admit that I was a crappy person or do things differently. I wasn’t ready for either and so, I persisted. And then one day, my life fell apart so profoundly that there was no more room for the bullshit.
I pray that you don’t have to get to that place to reconsider. I hope that if you did, you are crawling your way back. I know that either way, you will figure it all out. I did. You will.
Keep on keeping on.
L.
thepathtoworthy.com 